Nobody
by TsukiNova
Summary: Nobody could hear him. He was alone. Everybody, just within his reach, yards away from him and he could see their faces but he could not say anything or he would get killed. He wouldn't dare.   ::Link rape fic, please review, not flame!::


Footsteps, behind me down a Castle Town alley. I turned abruptly, hearing no one anymore, and so continued on my way, a basket of newly bought groceries swinging in the crook of my elbow. I stopped, remembering what I traveled to Castle Town for, and dug through the pockets of my traditional Ordon garb to find a folded piece of paper that contained my tasks.

"Bread..." I absent-mindedly read aloud. "Milk, spring water, cheese, soup broth..." I squinted to read my own chicken-scratch handwriting, and felt a sudden heavy hand on my shoulder, which pulled away as soon as I jerked and spun to face the presence.

"You're gocery shopping? I know a great market downtown just up the road from here." It was a burly, tall man of about six feet, scruffy beard and not very attractive. I caught a strange glint in dark eyes. I smiled kindly, however. "Oh, I was actually on my way to the market I always go to...I'd prefer to shop there. Thanks, though!" And began to continue on my merry way, until he stopped me again. _Now _it was a little weird.

"C'mon, kid, just let me show you the way! It's not that far." I figured I'd just follow him. I'd been meaning to try a new grocer anyhow. "Umm...sure, I guess." I mentally kicked myself for being rude. So, he began to walk, and I began to follow.

Down the streets, into the slightly darker downtown area, shaded by trees. Not as many people flooded this area. I wondered why such a great market would be in such a scraggly area of town...

"So, what's your name, kid?" I was getting really tired of him calling me "kid". For goddesses' sake, I was seventeen!

"Link..." I told him, brushing a few strands of blonde away from my face as we walked.

"A nice name you got there. Oh, whaddaya know, we're here." He stopped in front of a creepy-looking building, a shack. "It's a little run-down, though." He opened the door for me. I looked a little apprehensive, but stepped up the rickety doorstep and into the musty-smelling place. Wait-

Before I knew it, he was shutting the door and grabbing me by the shoulders and pushing me back against a torn couch. I was seeing black, but struggling with all my might, trying to push myself away from him. But he grabbed my shoulders, spun me onto my stomach and bent me over the couch, pushed my face into the cushion to muffle my cries. I started yelling for help but my voice was blocked out by the damned musty old couch cushion. He straddled my hips and began to pull down my pants.

_Oh no, oh no, oh no._

Then he stopped moving, but kept supressing me. A voice, gruff and deep, not like his voice had been before but a lot more fitting, in my ear.

"_Dare to move and I'll kill you."_

So I lay still. And he kissed my neck and he was pulling down my underwear, and I realized that he was going to rape me. I realized that my courage had been tossed out the window as soon as he pushed me onto that couch. I wondered why the goddesses were doing this to me, why it had to be _me _when I never did anything wrong. And as he gently stroked my skin and spread my legs apart, I felt my eyes sting with tears. But nothing was as terrible as when I felt him against my backside and he _thrust._

He thrust _inside of me, into me, tore me apart, ripped my mind away from me so I couldn't think or feel or breathe_

And I screamed. Hard, into the fabric of the couch, I screamed bloody murder and he grabbed my hair and threatened me. Pressed his lips against my collarbone and pressed a knife to my jugular and whispered softly when I had stopped screaming,

"_Be. Quiet."_

I tried, goddesses I know I did. What little noise I did make, I was sobbing, so hard that I was hyperventilating. And he began thrusting, in and out, back and forth, quickly. As if he just needed to relieve himself and he chose me to take it out on.

But it hurt, like nothing I'd ever felt before. And I began to feel something dripping down my thigh. _Blood. _Not that much, from what I could tell. But enough to come from where he was ripping me open.

I felt him brushing against my insides. Godesses, even saying that made me shudder. _My insides._ He was violating my insides. It wasn't him humiliating me by calling me names or degrading me by making fun of how I look or what I wear. I had never felt the mental pain of those instances before, but I could guess that it was nothing compared to how absolutely disgraced I felt.

Because he was disgracing me from the _inside. _

He had stolen my virginity from me. He had taken something that could never be returned. And it made me absolutely _sick._

And then, of course, there was the physical pain, which probably could not be matched or compared to anything else because it just burned, burned my body and he plunged and plunged deep inside me and I wanted to throw up.

He would whisper things to me occaisonaly, sweet nothings to keep me quiet. I turned my head to the side as much as I could manage, to breathe and to cry, to get away from his voice. He thrust again, I whimpered softly, squirmed.

I looked at the wall and his hips angled and hit something and I moaned.

_I moaned._

In pleasure? How...? No. It was not pleasure, I shoved the other thought out of my mind. It was pain that felt good, not pleasure, never would I say such a thing. But it wasn't like I was enjoying it. I only cried harder at the thought. _Humiliating._

Finally, thank goodness, his hips moved a few more times and then it was calm, like in the eye of a storm. I felt a warmth then, saw the turned-away faces of the people outside of the shack through the rotten and missing pieces of wood in the wall. But they didn't see me. I didn't know whether to be happy about that or to be frustrated that none of them could help me. But I didn't want anyone to see me like this.

At the time, I didn't understand what exactly that warmth I felt was. I was a young man. Sexually inexperienced. He pulled out of me and backed away, pulled up his pants and I turned my head to see the damned fool rummaging through his pocket for something. He pulled out something glittering, flecks of blue and green sparkling in the thin shafts of light coming in from the roof. He pulled my hand out almost gently from behind my back and opened my fingers to place the small objects in my palm.

_Rupees._

And then, I felt like a complete and utter _whore._

So I buried my face in the couch and cried, and he let go of my body. I slumped to the floor which was probably crawling with goddess knows what, but I didnt care as I bent over my knees, buried my face in my hands and cried. He pulled up his pants, or so it sounded like, and then I heard his footsteps receding and the door closing.

I sniffled, waited a few seconds and stumbled to my feet, not caring about the sticky blood and the _other _substance running down my legs, and pulled up my own pants and underwear.

I felt _like a whore._


End file.
